All Shoplifters Will Be Prosecuted
by Cerulean Pen
Summary: Perhaps the red-haired caregiver will think twice before bringing a particularly roguish imaginary friend along when she runs errands. 90th story!


All Shoplifters Will Be Persecuted

Summary: Perhaps the red-haired caregiver will think twice before bringing a particularly roguish imaginary friend along when she runs errands.

English Humor Rated: K+ Chapters:1 Words: Frankie & Bloo

**a/n: **Dear Lord…all the experiences I'm having during the summer, watching my little sister and cousin during the day. Projecting my anger through Frankie, as per usual, is rather useful, especially when it comes to nearly being arrested. Oh why younger sister, why did you throw a tantrum over a toy and then try to steal it? =( Well, anyway, enjoy!

"Okay, this is the last stop, I promise."

Frankie pledged this to the fidgety eight-year-old and his azure imaginary friend, but still got groans of protest, which the redhead only took in stride, smiling at the boredom they had to endure. "Hey, you two begged me to come along on my errands," Frankie reminded them joyfully, parking the multihued, gaudy bus. "Everyone out!"

Normally, she wasn't as cheerful on her daily duties; in fact, Frankie would be as cranky as a tomcat and just as quick to bite. Having Mac and Bloo shop with her, however, made the ordeal quite entertaining, and Frankie, admittedly, was devious. Leisurely strolling through the aisles, instructing that they stay by her side, and suppressing maniacal laughter at their glazed eyes. Pondering one product over another. Finally teaching them that shopping isn't always fun.

Victory was hers! Even Bloo had subjected himself to the wrath of dutiful behavior, for he knew that if he strayed, Frankie would discipline him out of existence. Mac had started out jovial and obliging, but Frankie had worked most of his patience down to threads. It wasn't that she didn't love the child. Revenge was just too sweet to deny.

The three ambled into Frankie's last destination: Bargain Buy. Like a wondrous superstore stretching onto the horizon eternally, it was the pinnacle of chain "everything" shops. For Frankie and Mac, Bargain Buy was identical to any other one located in town, with hideous fluorescent overhead lightings and cheap quality. Bloo, on the other hand, let his jaw go slack and eyes widen at the vast aisles containing everything he would ever want. "Whoa…" he mused, suddenly overwhelmed, glancing around at the ads and signs and displays.

"C'mon Bloo!" Frankie chimed, grabbing the blob's appendage and dragging him away from the entrance with the chestnut-haired child, pulling a crumpled Post-It note out of her jacket pocket. "Okay, I need a pound of flour, Cocoa Fluffs, two gallons of milk, and some fabric softener. Where is the-hey, where's Bloo?" Frankie craned her neck to the position he had stood moments ago, finding the space void. "Bloo! Oh, God, he's loose in the Bargain Buy!"

"Don't worry Frankie," Mac assured her, even though he was well aware of the trouble Bloo could get himself into, and a superstore was not the best place for him to be running rampant through. "We'll find him. You pick up your groceries, I'll find Bloo."

"Thanks pal, you're a life-saver." The redhead ruffled his hair adoringly, and took off towards the seemingly mile-long grocery section, illuminated by thousands of coolers. Mac turned in the opposite direction, faced with lengths of shelves and strollers and shopping carts and person after person, all moving in different directions.

"At least I'll _try _to find Bloo."

:::::

Said imaginary friend was indeed tearing through the store, shrieking animatedly in glee, a wild cerulean streak that knocked innocent shoppers down with the force of a semi-truck. Bloo was traveling hastily, until he found an abandoned cart, and, a grin stretching across his entire face, grabbed the handle, pushed off, and went racing through the sections.

The adrenaline eventually wore off, but only slightly, and Bloo took off towards the entertainment division, panting and cobalt veins pulsating. "Ooh," he marveled at the sixty-two inch flat screen HD television, blaring a program to the maximum volume and brightness. Eyes burning and watering, Bloo approached the spectacular TV, observing its sleek figure. "This definitely has to go in my room."

The sapphire imaginary friend lugged one, wrapped in cardboard, from the display, hauling it all the way to the register. A perky blonde employee rang up the product with a blinding beam, and read the price to Bloo. "That'll be one thousand, three hundred and twenty-two dollars, including tax!" she exclaimed sprightly.

He had no money whatsoever; not even a penny left behind by a shopper in a rush. Bloo decided to test the woman's cleverness, and leaned onto the counter, looking right into her eyes. "You really want to charge me that much for this crummy television? It probably doesn't even run right! When I plug it in, I bet I'll only get the dumb channels, like the Emergency Weather Warning Service and the religious ceremonies! Why don't I take it off your hands?"

The vivacious worker, whose nametag read Debbie, giggled and shook her head. "Sorry little fellow, but I can't just let you walk out of here with a TV! This costs a lot, and you have to give _me _one thousand, three hundred and twenty-one dollars if you want those dumb channels!"

_Maybe she'll fall for a sob story, _Bloo resolved, widening his eyes to the size of saucers and jutting out his lower lip, sniffling. "Okay. I guess I'll just crawl back to the shack I live in, where we all share one bed and we have to catch the rats in the sewers for food. Maybe if I can last the next flu season, I can come up with enough money for a down payment." He coughed pitifully, letting false tears slide down his cheeks.

"Oh, you poor thing," Debbie sympathized, leaning over the counter to pet the blob on the head. With her occupied, Bloo made a grab for the television, and Debbie snapped out of her buoyant state, fed-up with his antics. "SECURITY!" she screeched, and four burly, navy-clad men in sunglasses and wearing walkie-talkies on their belts started to chase Bloo.

"You'll never take me alive coppers!" Bloo yelled over his shoulder, rushing to escape the maze of music and movies and books and video games. He jumped into a nearby, toddler-sized Barbie convertible on display nearby, and pedaled furiously. Many bystanders stopped to gaze in wonder at the imaginary friend in a hot pink plastic vehicle, being pursued by livid security guards.

Mac, who had been searching for nearly twenty minutes with no sign of his friend, heard shouts of rage from around the corner. A blur of carnation plummeted towards him, and, if he hadn't yelped and threw himself to the side, he would've been flattened by Bloo. Gasping for breath, he watched him speed across the store, and did a face-palm. Bloo was _really _going to get it now.

:::::

His feet throbbing, Bloo looked up like he was hunting for a sign from God, and found "TOYS" branded in a sign above rows and rows of shelves. Exhausted, the cornflower blob jumped out of the convertible, diving into the stuffed animal bin, burying himself under fluffy pounds of cotton cats and dogs.

One of the security guards spotted the Barbie car, and peered into the toy tub, thrusting a hand in. The other three crowded around him as he withdrew a blue imaginary friend, smiling with black button eyes. He squeezed Bloo, who frenetically wheezed in an attempt to make a squeaking noise, successfully fooling the rather dense guard. "Let's go guys, he's probably in cookware by now!"

After making sure their receding forms were immersed deep in spatulas and blenders, Bloo climbed out, browsing through the various toys. Remote controlled cars, dolls, craft kits, water guns, Easy-Bake Ovens, figurines: the opportunities were limitless. "Wow, all this could keep me entertained for at least…an hour!" Bloo remarked.

He lifted a black package of glow-in-the-dark wall directions, and was faced by the most wondrous sight he ever beheld. "Oh my paddleball!" Bloo whispered in awe, lifting it like a trophy into the air, red ball springing from the wooden paddle. This was only one among fifty others, all tossed into a cardboard box, marked on clearance.

Bloo tried to have the ball hit the paddle, but he was so lousy at it, the ball flung itself through the air. "Stupid broken paddleball," he muttered, going through the rest in the same manor, testing them with his dreadful skills. One last paddleball lay discarded at the bottom, and Bloo inhaled sharply, thrusting the strung ball into the air.

The rubber crimson sphere flew and smacked the paddle successfully.

"YES!" Bloo screamed, leaping into the air, knowing he had found the first paddleball ever that wasn't "wrecked." "One that works!" He rushed out of the aisle, and collided directly with someone, flying into the bouncy ball cage. The tines of the crate snapped, unleashing balls nearly equal to Bloo's height.

"Bloo!"

"Mac?" He combated his way past the blizzard of balls, finding his dazed creator in the middle. "Let's get out of here! I have a paddleball to buy!" Bloo grasped Mac's hand, tugging him from the confusion and towards the cleaning supplies sector, where Frankie was emerging with a lavender bottle of fabric softener.

"Hey guys, where have-OOF!" Bloo torpedoed right into Frankie, the two of them falling backwards into a crate of sponges. "Bloo! Where have you been?"

"Finding this!" he shouted, waving the paddleball jerkily in front of her nose, nearly taking her eye out. Frankie noticed the yellow price tag taped to the handle that read three dollars.

"Bloo, you don't have three dollars, how will you afford this?" Frankie questioned, stooping down next to Mac as they gathered the milk and cereal and flour and fabric softener. He chuckled uproariously, like it was the simplest equation, shaking his head at her.

"Frankie, Frankie, Frankie. I believe I'm supplied with enough finances to last me," Bloo said mischievously, sneaking peeks at Mac, who recognized the act almost immediately. He took a few steps away from Bloo, furrowing his eyebrows heatedly.

"No way Bloo! I don't even have money with me!" Bloo scoffed, tugging Mac's backpack off and turning it upside down. Textbooks, pencils, papers, a bus pass, two novels, a pair of mittens, and a wrapper all tipped out over the linoleum tiles, but no bills or change in sight. "Bloo! I told you I didn't have money!" Mac exclaimed crossly, shoveling the miscellaneous array of junk into his backpack.

"Forget it Bloo, you don't need another paddleball," Frankie snapped, losing sight of her goal to teach him a lesson about being docile. He wrapped himself around one of her gangly legs.

"Pleeeassseee," Bloo whined shrilly, "it's the only paddleball that works!" The redhead shook him off irritably, and she and Mac walked together towards the front registers, where Bloo got a sneaky idea, even better then his "get-the-TV-for-free" plan.

"Where was it?" he mumbled aloud, coming across an enormous cardboard box, holding clothes donations for underprivileged families. "Aha!" Bloo dug through the various shirts, pants, shoes, socks, dresses, sweaters, hats, and jackets, until he came across a puffy parka fitted for a stout child. "No kid would want this!"

Bloo shrugged on the parka, tucking the paddleball into the inside pocket, strolling casually over to them. "So, are we checking out?" he asked nonchalantly, and Mac raised an eyebrow at Bloo's new attire. "What? What? Is there something in my teeth?"

"Bloo, who did you take that coat from?" he implored, and Bloo pulled on the collars of the dark navy article of clothing, pulling it snugger around him. Frankie was occupied with digging enough quarters from the bottom of her purse, and took no notice of Bloo.

"I earned it honestly," was his vague answer, brushing right past him and the two walked behind him. All remained fine, until Bloo walked through the doors, his departure clearly denoted by the sudden squeal of emergency sirens, turning Frankie deaf in both ears.

The four security guards ran out of cookware, spotting Bloo by the exit, shedding his coat hysterically. When Frankie realized the situation they were in, she scooped up Mac in one arm, Bloo in the other, and sprinted to the Foster's bus. Minivans of all kind skidded to avoid the sight, security guards right behind the three.

"GET IN!" Frankie shouted, tossing Bloo into the front bus seat like a football throwing the winning yards. She slammed the doors shut, dropped Mac and the plastic bags in a heap, and fumbled to turn the engine on. "Hold on to each other!" Frankie slammed a foot down on the gas pedal, the bus lurching forward, inches away from taking out a Volkswagen, bursting into congested traffic lanes.

All was silent for a few minutes, as Frankie maneuvered the large vehicle onto the freeway, knuckles white, face turning the similar fiery color of her ponytail. Bloo braced himself for a screaming admonishment that would turn his ears inside out and blow him out the window. Instead, voice tight with fury, Frankie spoke.

"I am never going to Bargain Buy again."

**a/n: **So wraps up a too-short one-shot! This is basically the chain of events that occurred when I took my younger sister and my cousin to a Wal-Mart and my younger sister attempted to shoplift this Barbie doll. It was humiliating. But, I hope y'all enjoyed and if you wouldn't mind….PRESS THIS LITTLE BLUE BUTTON!


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